Page 25 of Never Stop
CHAPTER SIX
Easton
Having Brooke away for the night was weird, and it was strange sleeping in my bed alone. I missed her warmth and the way she always pressed her ass against mine as we slept back to back. It was almost as though she needed to know I was still there while she slept. But she had nothing to worry about. Brooke wasthe one. I wasn’t going to fuck around on her like Jared had, or like I did when I was with Dana.
Once a cheater always a cheater?I knew that wasn’t true. Though our relationship was still new, I knew deep in my heart I’d never wrong her. Even many years down the road, I wouldn’t stray. When you find your person, you don’t go looking for another one. And Brooke was my person. Period. End of story.
After the cruise, I’d spent most nights alone while Brooke was in Boston. That was no more. I never wanted to sleep in my bed without her again. Of course, that wasn’t reality since Bailee had moved back to Boston and I assumed Brooke would visit her often. Butfuck,my bed was cold, and my dick told me he missed her too.
Me:Ha! Is that the only reason you’re marrying me?
Brooke:That and the way you make me come.
I was hard and needed to come myself since I’d been thinking about making her come for the rest of the night. I wanted to call her—hear her voice—tell her I was thinking about her. Except I didn’t want to bethatfiancé.
While lying in bed, thinking about Brooke and how, if she were here, I would press up against her back, feeling her ass press against my dick, my cock stiffened. I pictured her soft curves and how smooth she was under my strong hands. Lowering my hand to the front of my boxers, I fisted my dick. The cotton of my underwear allowed me to glide my hand over it and I teased myself imagining it was my woman doing it. My shaft was rock hard as I pulled my boxers down my legs, kicking them until they pooled under the covers at the foot of the bed. The sheet slipped down with them, and my dick bobbed as it broke free.
I was naked, horny as fuck and alone.
Continuing to take matters into my own hands, I fisted my cock again, sliding my hand up and down. I swirled my big hand when I stroked the tip, my index finger pressing a little harder on the underside where I liked it the most.
I started slowly, enjoying the pleasure as it relaxed me.
Up. Down.
Up. Down.
Up. Down. Swirl.
My hand started to tighten slightly around my shaft as images of Brooke’s head bobbing in my lap flashed into my brain. I sucked in my breath for a beat, letting a low groan vibrate my throat, and my abs clenched as I started to get closer to climaxing. With my other hand, I reached down, grabbed my balls and rolled them as my right hand continued to glide over my dick. My hips rocked upward with each pump and twist of my hand, my breathing quickened, and my speed increased.
Pre-cum coated my hand, and I imagined it was Brooke’s warm heat my dick was sliding into. My balls felt heavy as I worked them in my palm getting closer and closer to coming. My entire body started to tighten as I jerked myself faster and harder.
I was close.
So fucking close.
So close that as I stroked up again, twisting around the head of my cock, cum shot out in ribbons over my stomach and in my hand. I continued to stroke, my cum coating my entire shaft as I groaned my release.
Cum covered my abs as I basked in the aftermath of climaxing.
As soon as I woke up the next morning, I texted Brooke, secretly wanting to know when she’d been home. She texted me back—hungover. I told her to eat some grease and get home because we had our weekly plans for dinner with my folks. Really I only wanted her home and in bed with our asses glued together as we slept. I was lovesick.
I always thought Avery was crazy because he’d fallen hard so fast, but here I was, still falling. Every day I fell more and more in love with Brooke because she was my person—my soul mate—the one I was going to grow old with.
Every day Brooke and I thought about her possibly having colon cancer and this FAP crap. I’d catch her staring off into space and in my gut, I knew she was worried. My gut was also telling me that she was fine. That she was going to be okay, and we’d get married and have another kid like we both wanted.
I was out in my front yard, mowing the grass while Cheyenne played catch in the street with Courtney, when Brooke finally arrived home. I didn’t know what time it was, but the sun was setting. I smiled as she pulled into the driveway and into our two-car garage. At first, it was weird thinking ofmyhouse beingours, but now everything felt right and the way it was meant to be.
Easton Crawford was getting married—again. Never thought I’d see the day.
“Hey.” My smile was wide as Brooke came out of the garage.
“Do we have any lemonade?”
I blinked at her question. “Lemonade? Um… I don’t think so. Why?”
She smiled and kissed me hello. “It’s a warm summer day, you’re shirtless mowing our lawn, and I get the feeling I should be in a rocking chair on the front porch sipping lemonade.”
